Chapter 58: The Young Fox Sneaking in Secret

The reason for not using lightning was that, since the opponent specialized in lightning magic, he was likely to have a high resistance to it. However, the dark sorcerer was proficient in fire, ice, and lightning, each spell nearly equal in power.

A massive pillar of ice erupted from the earth, the force of the spell sending the caster flying before exploding into a dense mist of frost, shrouding the five-meter square area. Victory in a single blow—without question, the opponent was no match for Venigo. It was only a matter of time. Even Honey would have an opportunity to practice her still-awkward divine magic of light, using arrows of light to hone her skills.

Not long after, when Viscount Salim’s troops joined the battle from the shore, the problem was resolved even faster.

It seemed this was the last hidden card of the Bleating Lamb cult. After repairing the ship, they sailed smoothly to their destination without encountering any further enemies. Along the way, they did happen upon a few small bands of river pirates—rabble even weaker than the cultists. Viscount Salim couldn’t be bothered to act, so Venigo took care of them single-handedly, wiping them out with ease.

Venigo even found a chance to test the reward he’d received from Sir Stone—the Regna Crossbow. He wasn’t exactly a skilled marksman, but with the weapon’s enhancements, he could at least meet the standard of a regular archer.

The dark Regna Crossbow boasted a swift rate of fire and the ability to siphon a small portion of the enemy’s life force back to its wielder with each effective hit—a fascinating feature. Though a ranged weapon, it could return the life energy from the blood of a wound to its distant master.

Soon enough, Lady Frith’s ship reached its destination. Venigo and the other two adventuring parties completed their mission and, after collecting the agreed-upon bounty, departed one by one.

However, not long after leaving, Venigo—now in the guise of the scavenger Meow-Meow—returned alone. Given Meow-Meow’s small size and Venigo’s cunning, this reconnaissance went completely unnoticed.

Venigo discovered something interesting: Lady Frith’s ship was packed with all kinds of weapons, an impressive variety, though not in large quantities of each type. The weapons were swiftly divided into small batches and taken by a host of smugglers, thieves, and petty criminal groups, destined to be resold to even more underground factions. Lady Frith truly lived up to her reputation as a merchant of death.

For an arms dealer, selling weapons to the enemies of her own country was the mark of true success, was it not?

“Brother Little Fox, what do we do now?” Honey asked doubtfully.

“We rest for the night. Don’t worry, that shrewd Lady Frith won’t let our abilities go unused,” Venigo replied with a quiet laugh. “By tomorrow at the latest, she’ll send someone for us.”

That very night, a captain of Viscount Salim’s swordsmen arrived with a sealed letter, just as Venigo had predicted—Lady Frith had further tasks for him. Things that could not be handled by official means.

“Eliminating rivals, stirring conflict among the underground factions? It’s certainly an excellent way to promote arms sales,” Venigo said with a chuckle. “What do you think, Sophie?”

“To destroy evil is to do good,” Sophie replied.

“But here’s the problem: the target we’re to eliminate is a stronghold of the Silver Helm Brotherhood. They’ve joined forces with the Bleating Lamb cult,” Venigo explained. “With the individual prowess of the Silver Helm and the cult’s human modification rituals, our opponents won’t be as easy to deal with as the rabble we faced before.”

“The Bleating Lamb cult… human modification sorcery?” Sophie asked, puzzled. “Not the warlords?”

“The ultimate knights modified by the warlords are, of course, the most powerful creations. But the Bleating Lamb cult seems to have mastered a more practical magical technique,” Venigo explained. “That large mob of armed civilians we fought earlier was clearly the result of their handiwork. They’re numerous, easy to produce…”

“Treating people as objects, to be shaped and toyed with at will?” Sophie seemed angry.

“Yes, like carving wood, shaping it at one’s whim,” Venigo answered indifferently. He had always been somewhat cold-hearted, especially toward strangers—he felt little sympathy for the cultists.

“We must stop them,” Sophie said softly.

“Very well, it’s decided. I’ll take the job,” Venigo nodded. “I’ll pay Viscount Salim a visit. Take Honey out for a walk, will you? She must be stifled by now.”

Sophie nodded silently and went to Honey’s room.

Soon, Venigo returned from Viscount Salim’s temporary quarters, bringing back some materials Lady Frith had promised. After making his customary wishes, he began his work as an arcane scholar: purification alchemy and the crafting of Nanoka’s supplies.

He first processed the new batch of materials to make them easier to store and refine, ensuring he wouldn’t waste his limited daily wishes.

The cost was a sleepless night—by morning, Venigo wore dark circles under his eyes, enduring Honey’s relentless teasing.

“Hey, hey, Brother Little Fox, what fun things did you make? Show me!” Honey clung to Venigo’s back, tugging at his cheeks as they walked.

“If I told you, you’d lose interest. Better to surprise you later… Ah, we’re here.” Venigo stopped.

Honey still wouldn’t let go, until she caught sight of the grim black fortress ahead. Then she slid off his back of her own accord, hurried to the mechanical hobby-horse, retrieved her backpack, and quickly donned her armor and shield. Wielding her radiant warhammer, she struck a proud pose.

The great cat leapt silently from the grass, sat down before Honey, and said, “A patrol approaches—not strong, but troublesome.”

“Troublesome?” Venigo slung his backpack over his shoulder and took out a portable telescope, sweeping the area quickly.

“Well, well, they really have produced these things. Should I say the Bleating Lamb’s puppetmaster is truly a top-tier talent?”

What Venigo saw were four dogs—four monstrous hounds whose skin had degenerated, leaving their flesh raw and exposed. Their eyes glinted with ferocity, and their half-open jaws revealed rows of long, needle-like white teeth, glistening with a pale green saliva of unknown origin.

Disgusting creatures, but clearly dangerous.

“Cat, go show them that cats are in no way inferior to dogs,” Venigo nudged the big cat with his elbow. “I’ll handle the humans, agreed?”

“The humans aren’t strong,” the big cat protested.

“But only humans can raise the alarm,” Venigo replied. “Dogs just bark, and those inside can’t tell if it’s a warning or just a rabbit.”

“You want to finish them before they alert the others? There are eight of them,” the big cat whispered.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be a problem,” Venigo said with a soft laugh. From his pack, he drew a kettle-shaped helmet, strapped it on, and fastened it securely.

Role selected, analysis complete… composition begins. Level 20 Archer, composition complete!

In Royal Knights 2, archers could wield most weapons, but their specialty was bows and crossbows. While heavy crossbows slowed movement, their single-shot power exceeded that of bows.

For Venigo, the weakness in mobility could be offset by the Azure Gale. Besides, he happened to have an excellent crossbow at hand.

The Dark Regna Crossbow.

“Begin,” Venigo whispered.

He crouched low, gliding forward. The air currents from Azure Gale aided his movement, making his steps soft, smooth, and silent.

Soon, he closed in to an ideal distance and raised the crossbow.

“Badge: Sniper. Bow and crossbow abilities enhanced,” Venigo murmured. “Activate role template boost—accuracy improved. Now I can call myself an elite marksman.”

Swish—the moment his finger squeezed the trigger, a short, thick bolt shot through the air. Without checking for a hit, Venigo swiftly drew back the string, loaded another bolt, and fired again.

The Regna Crossbow’s traits—speed and lifesteal—made its firing rate surprisingly fast. In moments, all twelve prepared bolts had been loosed.

Given the distance, Venigo hadn’t aimed for the head but rather the chest and abdomen. Eight bolts struck eight enemies; four went down instantly, while the other four, grievously wounded, still managed to reach for their alarm whistles.

The remaining four bolts landed in quick succession, cutting off their movements. No matter how strong a human, no one could stay conscious with a bolt through the heart or lungs. The spinning bolts tore gaping wounds inside their bodies, causing fatal damage.

The four bizarre patrol hounds bared their rows of sixty-four sharp, narrow fangs and, with savage howls, charged toward the source of the noise.

The barking did not alert the enemy. As Venigo had anticipated, the Silver Helm Brotherhood relied more on the patrolmen’s whistles; the dogs were there to detect hidden foes and alert their handlers, but barking alone was not a warning—these dogs barked just as wildly at prey.

What should Venigo do next?